


What is a Soulmate?

by EnglishPoet18



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-06 17:44:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3143048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnglishPoet18/pseuds/EnglishPoet18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He picked up the phone anyway, his fingers tracing the numbers that would connect him to her voice. It would be so easy to dial them, so easy to call her. She would answer if she heard it, just like she always did. Rated T. I own nothing from The Walking Dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So this is just a little oneshot I had sitting in my documents that I had the itch to finish tonight. I'm not quite sure where it came from or why, but then again that's how a lot of things begin in my head. Just ideas out of darkness. In my mind this is a Caryl oneshot, but I suppose if you wanted you could envision anyone as the girl in this. I have no real age in mind for them here, but I suppose they are somewhere in the range of 16-19. Anyway, it's different from my usual style I guess, but I thought I would post it anyway and see what you all thought about it. Would love to hear your thoughts and thanks for reading!

...

It was one of those nights...the ones where he had to practically lock himself within his room just to get a break from the abuse. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn't. The clock on his bedside table burned its red numbers at him, an unfailing reminder of the time.

Midnight. Too late to call.

He picked up the phone anyway, his fingers tracing the numbers that would connect him to her voice. It would be so easy to dial them, so easy to call her. She would answer if she heard it, just like she always did.

He wondered if she even had any idea at all of what she meant to him. She was his best friend, but she was also so much more than that. She was his light in the darkness, his one life raft in the raging storm of his life. She was his anchor in so many ways...keeping him centered amidst the storm that constantly swirled within him.

He was a coward though. No matter how many times he tried, he couldn't seem to tell her that his feelings went beyond friendship. He was terrified that she would turn from him, that she wouldn't want the same things that he did. He wasn't sure if he could take the gamble of losing her friendship. Some days she was literally the only thing that kept him around, the only thing that stopped him from doing something stupid.

He needed to hear her voice.

His fingers pressed the keys, his eyes trained onto a dark spot in the ceiling that had begun as a slow leak and then gotten progressively worse over time. He didn't need to look at what he dialed. His fingers traced the worn numbers, a path that was burned into his memory.

The phone rang once and then she picked up halfway through the second ring, her voice sounding sleepy, but alert.

"Hey," She said, "Everything alright?"

He loved how she just jumped right into the heart of the matter, knowing that it was him calling because who else would call at this time of night?

He opened his mouth to speak and found that his tongue was frozen in place, his words lost somewhere in orbit between his line and hers. He exhaled deeply, the only indicator that he was still on the line.

"How bad?" She whispered.

"Bad," He echoed, his voice sounding desolate, almost broken even to his own ears and he fought back the urge to wince.

"Marks?"

Daryl sucked in a breath, absently tracing the split skin that now marred his cheek, "Just one." If that was all he came out with through the night then he would consider himself lucky. More often than not, he wasn't so lucky.

She sucked in a breath, "I'm coming to pick you up."

"No." His voice was harsh, too harsh and he softened his tone, knowing that his voice would travel through the thin walls. The last thing he needed was to wake up the monster that lurked within, especially since all was quiet for now. "I'm okay...just need to hear ya voice."

She made a noise through the phone, shifting something around and the sound was muffled for several seconds before she came back on the line.

"You can't keep living like this. You can stay with me, we ca-"

"And sleep where? Under your bed? Face it. You are crowded enough already without adding me into the mix. I can handle myself." He knew he was being selfish. Even if he had to sleep under a park bench, in reality he knew that it had to be better than this. But he was stubborn, not wanting her to see every side to him, the demons that he constantly fought. She knew more about him than anyone, but there were a few things that even she didn't know.

"I hate hearing you like this."

"Tell me about your day," He changed the subject, wanting to listen to her ramble on about anything and everything. He just needed _something_ to get his mind off of his current situation.

"Well...it was pretty uneventful. I got up, brushed my teeth, took a shower, and then proceeded to fix myself some toast which I promptly burned because I was...distracted."

He chuckled, picturing her perfectly in his mind. Her short auburn hair falling softly around her shoulders as she placed the toast in the oven. She would get distracted...either by a book or by some daydream...she was always daydreaming. He could almost smell the burnt toast the image was so vivid to him.

"What are you doing now? I wake ya up?" He asked, envisioning her in his mind laying on her bed in her pajamas, the blankets wrapped around her to ward off the chill of the night air. He wished that he was there to warm her.

"No, you didn't wake me up."

She was lying. He could tell. There was a slight hesitation at the beginning of her sentence, a clear testament that she was telling a lie. He knew her too well, but he decided to let it slide without comment.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"I'm just sitting here with eight blankets on my bed. I'm still cold though. Can you believe that?" She laughed, music to his ears.

He could believe that. She was always cold and he was always trying to warm her up.

"You're always cold," he remarked.

She hummed, "And you're always so warm! I need your body heat right now."

He smiled, the motion pulling on his cheek and making the skin sting from the cut. She had no idea just how badly he wished that he could be there with her to warm her up. His body temperature ran slightly higher than normal and he was always warmer than others.

In his mind he saw himself with her on her bed like they had been so many times before in their lives. It was never anything sexual...it wasn't about that. Although lately he found his thoughts starting to drift in that direction, but he would never make a move on her. He cared about her too much to risk losing her.

He had always heard the term soulmates used in books and movies growing up, but he had never quite understood it. He didn't trust people easily and that seemed like a lot of trust to put into someone who would inevitably let you down. Until _her_. She had captivated him from day one, hanging around him even when he was being unbearable. She was persistent and had a stubborn streak a mile wide that he admired. She also had one of the biggest hearts of anyone that he had ever met which was also one of her faults. She trusted people too easily, especially him.

He was always waiting for the moment when he would let her down even though he worked hard not to let that happen. He wasn't sure why she trusted him so implicitly when he didn't even trust himself most of the time, but she did. A Dixon wasn't a name you associated with trust and most people judged him simply by his name instead of getting to know him for who he was.

But she was different and despite his indifference, she found her way into his life and made herself comfortable there. He would say that he fought it tooth and nail, but the truth of the matter was that he just accepted it. There had never been any other way with her. She just was.

So he figured that if anyone could be categorized as his soulmate then it would have to be her. She was the embodiment of everything that the definition implied. She was _it_ for him and he knew that now just as he knew that he would likely never tell her any of these things. Because despite everything, deep down he was scared.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

He drew the phone closer to his ear as if by doing that he would somehow be closer to her. He glanced at the door to his bedroom, the gateway to hell if he dared to open it. Thankfully the house remained silent... the heavy boot falls that he anticipated never came.

"I am now," he murmured and he meant it. Hearing her voice always made it all okay. As long as he could call her then he was okay.

"You sure you don't want me to come and pick you up? I can park down the street?" His angel, always trying to fix everything.

"Nah...just- just talk to me. Tell me anything until I fall asleep." He settled back onto his stiff mattress, closed his eyes, and waited.

"So I was walking outside today and I heard a noise in the bushes. Well you know me...I waited until I heard it again and then-"

"Lemme' guess, ya went to investigate?"

She chuckled, "Well yeah, of course! Would I be me if I didn't? So anyway, I stopped and listened for a few minutes until I heard it again. I couldn't figure out what it was, but it wasn't too big and it was making the leaves rustle and sway. So I crept over to the edge- oh wait, let me backtrack. I looked around for a big stick first because you never can be too prepared and _then_ I crept closer to the bushes. I was ready to swing if necessary. The bushes shifted again and then a squirrel darted out between my legs for the nearest tree. My heart just about flew out of my chest, but I held steady. All I could think of was if only you were there with your crossbow. We have too many squirrels here, did you know that? Daryl? Are you asleep?"

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Daryl drifted, lost in a dream of beautiful girls chasing squirrels in bushes. The phone still lay nestled between his ear and shoulder as his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. He was on the cusp of tipping into the void when she spoke again, much softer this time.

"Sweet dreams, Daryl... _love you._ "


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **The italics are a flashback**

...

_"You're a sorry sack of shit!" Frank Dixon shouted._

_Daryl simply stood there, taking all that the man deemed necessary to throw at him...just waiting for it to be over. Leaving before Frank finished was just asking for trouble that he didn't want. Squaring his shoulders to preserve a bit of pride, he braced himself for the onslaught of insults being careful not to look Frank in the eye. To look him in the eye meant you were issuing some sort of challenge...and Frank never turned down a challenge._

_Frank's beady stare bore into him with a searing anger that Daryl could feel straight through to his bones. He tried to internally remove himself from the situation, to retreat into the depths of his mind, a trick he had learned from watching Merle._

_It would be so much easier if his brother had been there, but ever since Merle had gotten his bike he never stayed home and Daryl couldn't really blame him. If Daryl had a vehicle then he wouldn't hang around so much either. It didn't even matter that he didn't have his license yet. He had learned to drive early on in life by watching his brother which wasn't a surprise. He had learned just about everything from Merle simply because there hadn't been anyone else to teach him shit._

_Daryl watched out of the corner of his eye as Frank took another sip of his Whiskey. He belched out loud and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before regarding Daryl intently again. "Yer not even mine ya know," Frank's words began to slur slightly and Daryl felt his insides turn cold at this admission. He had no idea if the man were lying or if this was another of his truths spawned by his liquid courage. Alcohol had the ability to make lips run loosely and a lot of times, truths that would otherwise have never been uttered were spewed forth like vomit. "Yer Mama, she was a whore," Frank laughed bitterly. "Spread her legs for half tha state o' Georgia. Yet she always came back to me because she couldn't get enough o' this Dixon." Frank swayed on his feet and pointed his finger at Daryl, lunging forward so that it jabbed him in the chest. "That's how I know ya ain't mine. If you was a true Dixon, then you woulda been bringing in loads of pussy by now. Yet...ain't never seen ya with a woman which leads me to believe that yer a faggot. You a faggot, Daryl?"_

_Daryl inwardly cringed at the word, flinching as bits of spit coated his skin when the word faggot was so vehemently thrust from Frank's tongue like it was poison. Even if he was a faggot, which he didn't believe he was, then he sure as hell would never admit it to someone like Frank Dixon. He wouldn't even admit it to Merle. His brother would likely choke on his own saliva...right before beating the shit out of him. No, Daryl Dixon wasn't gay._

_"Answer me boy!" Frank roared, Whiskey sloshing to the floor with his sudden movement. The act only further served to piss Frank off and Daryl braced himself. "You see what you made me do! Spilt good damn Whiskey on the floor. Wasted...wasted on yer worthless faggot ass. Gonna cost ya boy..." Frank warned. "Gonna need another bottle ta replace this one. Go buy me another bottle."_

_Daryl's breath quickened. He didn't have very much money on him, only making a little over minimum wage at the lumber yard on the weekends. He had an account at the local bank in town, but nobody knew about it, not even Merle. Daryl deposited most of his paychecks into that bank, saving all he could for the day that he could get the hell away from this shithole. The bank had been his only choice to hide his money. He had tried to hide it in the house once, but Frank had nearly torn the place apart in one of his rages, jonesing for money to buy drugs. That had been the last time that Daryl had hid money there._

_He had felt odd walking into the bank, out of place in his dingy clothing that only seemed dirtier when planted next to the gaudy furnishings of the bank. The looks he had received when asking about an account had been painful, but he had pushed through it knowing that this was his last hope if he wanted to save anything. Fortunately for him, bank's couldn't be prejudiced against customers and Daryl had more than enough for the deposit plus he had no negative accounts in any other financial organization to count against him. He was approved for the account and he denied the plastic card, knowing that Frank would somehow find it. Week after week, Daryl entered the bank and deposited the majority of his check, keeping out just enough for emergencies. Over time, the looks from staff disappeared and now no one barely paid him any mind when he entered. Daryl was sure that if he weren't a Dixon and if his clothing had been nicer, then he would have been treated different. It didn't really matter in the end though because he didn't give a shit what anyone thought. He had one more year before he turned eighteen and then he was gone._

_Frank tossed his keys at Daryl, the metal hitting him sharply in the chest and Daryl caught them before they hit the ground. Turning on his heel, Frank staggered over to the couch, the conversation clearly over. Daryl glanced down at the truck keys in his hand. Frank never let him drive the truck so it was odd that he was giving Daryl the keys now._

_Knowing better than to question it, Daryl strode from the house and climbed into the truck. The engine sputtered and choked, but finally caught fire and roared to life. He sat there for a moment, his hands on the wheel and stared at his reflection in the rearview mirror._

_It would be so easy to just take the truck and leave without a word...to never come back to this place of hell. The only thing that held him back was her. He couldn't leave her behind, had promised her that he wouldn't do anything stupid like leaving without talking to her first. He backed the truck from the drive, the vision of her calming his racing pulse._

_He wondered what she was doing..._

_..._

She tapped the cordless phone against her hand nervously. She had been doing a lot of thinking recently...thinking about Daryl. Lately he seemed a little preoccupied and that worried her. She knew it was extremely hard on him being in that atmosphere with Frank. She wished that he would come and stay with her, but she knew that he wouldn't. No matter how bad it got there, Daryl Dixon would never accept charity. Even though it wouldn't be charity to her, she knew that he would look at it that way. He had lots of pride and she admired that about him. Even when things were tough, so tough that she wondered how he could stand it, he managed to push through it.

They had both lived a tough life, although hers wasn't nearly as bad as his. She lived with her mother and her stepfather in a tiny two bedroom house that was so small it barely fit their meager furnishings. Her dad had passed away ten years ago...a freak construction accident that still haunted her mother to this day. Ever since his death they had struggled to make ends meet and they had downsized several times over the years in an effort to hold their heads above water.

A few months ago her mother had met Ed Peletier, an overweight, but seemingly harmless man... _at first_. She had hoped that with Ed around they wouldn't have to struggle so badly, that he could take some of the stress off of her mother who seemed to get worse with each passing year. Unfortunately having Ed around did nothing to relieve their financial situation. If nothing else, it only added to their woes since the man skipped out of work more than he actually showed. He also had a habit of drinking beer and watching her with interest any time she left her room. It unnerved her, but she ignored it and chalked it up to her just being paranoid.

She definitely didn't tell Daryl about it and for all she knew he hadn't found out. Daryl hadn't met Ed but a few times and only then it had been brief. She could tell that Ed didn't approve of Daryl coming around, though she didn't know why. Daryl had always come around freely before Ed, helping out around their house, doing all of the things that her and her mother couldn't do themselves. Her mother adored Daryl, doted on him even though Daryl didn't handle that kind of thing very well. He accepted it from her mother though, something that she herself had noted with silent pleasure. Daryl cared, plain and simple.

It was one of the reasons that she knew that she loved him despite the fact that she hadn't ever been around any other guys her age. She didn't need to hang around them to know that she loved Daryl. It just was...kind of like how the sun rose and set every day.

Fighting through her anxiety, she dialed his number and waited. He answered on the second ring.

"Just thinkin' about you," he said in greeting. "Everything okay?"

She smiled to herself, pleased that he had been thinking about her. "Yeah. What about you?"

He let out a deep exhale and she heard the sound of an engine in the background. "Everything is...pretty much normal," he responded.

She knew what he meant by normal and that admission saddened her. Nothing about his life should be considered normal and it broke her heart that awful things happened to him so much that he had grown used to it. "Are you driving?"

"Frank gave me the truck keys. Sent me out for beer, but I doubt he'll still be conscious by the time I make it back. Asshole," he muttered under his breath. "What ya up to?"

"Just thinking about some things," she said wistfully. "I actually have the house to myself."

"Oh?"

She nodded even though he couldn't see her, "Ed took Mama out."

"Better mark that down in tha books," Daryl's voice expressed his shock.

She chuckled, "I know. I can hardly believe it myself." She grew quiet, twirling the ends of her hair around one finger...a calming gesture that she had developed when she was younger. "I wanted to talk to you about something when you have time. I know you're busy..."

"How about now?" He asked.

She sucked in a breath, chewing softly on her lip as she cast a glance at the clock. They had only been gone for about thirty minutes and they had told her not to wait up so she supposed that it was as good a time as any. She doubted that she would ever get the house to herself again for a long time anyway. She just hadn't expected him to come so soon...wasn't sure that she was ready to have this conversation with him even though she was positive in her decision.

"What about Frank?"

"What about him? He can't do anything worse than he's already done. Got some things I need ta talk to you about too."

"Alright then. I'll see you soon."

...

When he arrived she greeted him at the door, drinking in the sight of him. Even though they talked on the phone most nights, she rarely got to see him anymore. His large presence filled the small kitchen and she cleared her throat, suddenly nervous being alone with him. Without a word, she grabbed his hand and dragged him to her bedroom. Though they had the house to themselves, it still didn't feel right having this conversation out in the living room. Once inside, she shut the door and eyed him nervously.

"What's goin' on with you? You're actin' different," he observed. "You sure nothing happened?"

"I'm positive. You go first...what did you need to talk to me about?"

His fingers immediately found his mouth and he began gnawing on the skin around his nails, a nervous gesture that he had kept as long as she had known him. He didn't seem to quite know what to do with himself and they both ended up just standing there awkwardly.

"Thinkin' about leavin' soon," he began, his eyes darting everywhere, but right at her. He hated how hard it was for him to say this to her. "Almost got enough money saved to get the hell outta here."

She swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat down, "When?" She whispered.

"Couple weeks..."

She inhaled sharply, "What about school? You're so close, you can't quit now! Stay with me," she begged suddenly, catching him by the arm. "We can make it work." Her eyes pleaded with him.

He stared down into her blue depths and saw the hurt swimming around in her eyes. It gutted him and he turned his gaze from her although he didn't pull free from her hold on him. Her touch had a way of keeping him grounded. The last thing he had wanted to do was hurt her with this, but he didn't know how much longer he could stay at the house with Frank. It was only a matter of time before Daryl was pushed too far and did something drastic to retaliate. That wasn't him...he wasn't typically a violent guy, but there was only so much a person could take. He was reaching his limit.

"I'd still come by to see you," he said.

She released his arm, "It's not the same. We talked once of leaving together...maybe I can scrape up some money and come with you-"

"No," he said sharply. She flinched and he softened his tone. "You need ta finish school. You got a knack for that shit and I'm not going to see you fuck that up...I'll come back for you when you graduate," he offered.

Graduation was four months away, so close...yet so far. Four months would seem like an eternity, but she knew that he wouldn't give in. She also couldn't ask him to stay, not with Frank. If Daryl thought that he couldn't last the four months then things must be worse than she had thought. What type of friend would she be if she asked him to wait and endure that hell for four more months?

"What did ya want to talk to me about?"

She twisted her hands around in her lap. Now that he had told her that he was leaving, she knew this might be her last chance. She just wasn't sure how to broach the subject. His piercing stare wasn't helping matters either, but she knew that if she didn't speak up soon then he would begin to worry so she just blurted it out.

"I want you to be my first." There, that wasn't so bad. Except now she felt like her body might burn a hole into the wooden floor and fall through it in embarrassment.

"Your first what?"

Oh, God. She hadn't anticipated on having to spell it out for him. Why couldn't he get her meaning?

"I want you to...take my virginity," she whispered.

Daryl had just sat down on the edge of her bed, but upon her admission, shot straight back up to a standing position like the mattress had burned him. His eyes were wide and he looked like a caged animal ready to claw its way out.

"You, _what?_ "

Burning with embarrassment, she buried her face in her hands and fought back the tears that threatened to consume her. She had thought long and hard about what she was asking him. She knew that it would inevitably change their friendship, but she was willing to risk it. She had heard how uncomfortable first times could be, but she couldn't think of anyone better to see her through it than Daryl. She loved him like she had never loved another man.

"Forget it," she mumbled, turning away so that he couldn't see her vulnerable and weak.

He was quiet, his heavy breathing slowly calming down some. He hadn't left either, she noted. When his hand touched her shoulder she jumped.

"I- I can't," he ground out. God, he wanted to...so badly, but he had no clue what he was doing. How could he take her virginity when he was still a virgin himself? Almost shaking with a combination of nerves and need, he fought for control of his body. "I don't know what I'm doin'," he admitted.

Eyes widening in shock, she turned slowly to face him head on. Surely he wasn't telling her that he was a virgin as well? He was almost eighteen, same age as her. She had heard the rumors in school about him with other girls, but she hadn't ever let it bother her. Were those false?

Fighting nerves, she placed both hands tentatively onto his chest, one hand over his heartbeat that pounded soundly within his chest. Taking a step closer she brought their bodies together, a current of electricity running between them. Inching onto her toes, she slid her hands up to his neck, bringing her face inches from his.

"Kiss me," she breathed.

He stared down at her lips, his breath catching in his throat as she ran her tongue across them and parted them slightly. He had dreamed about this moment, the visions of this haunting him in a way. Could he really do this? Could he bring her the pleasure that she deserved? He hadn't went beyond first base with a girl, much less having sex with them. Staring down at her and seeing the open trust on her face he knew that he couldn't turn her down. He might not have had sex before, but that didn't mean he was immune to a beautiful girl offering herself to him so openly. _Especially her._

Lowering his head, Daryl brushed his lips across hers, just a faint whisper at first and then when she sighed into his mouth he deepened the kiss. His arms banded around her waist of their own accord and he half lifted her without thinking. She fit perfectly in his arms and he felt his body begin to respond to the caress of her tongue against his.

She pulled away to tilt her head back and he pressed light kisses over her throat as she sighed with pleasure. Threading her fingers through his unruly brown locks, she kissed him again with more confidence this time. He smelled better than anything she had ever smelled and the warmth that he projected made her feel safe and protected.

They kissed for a bit until they began to grow more familiar with each other. She felt a deep ache just below her belly at the juncture of her thighs. His eyes were darker, the blue almost black as he stared at her silently, waiting on her to call the shots.

"I want you inside of me."

He groaned, his forehead falling against hers as he closed his eyes and shudders ran through his body. Turning, he lowered her down to her small twin bed and crawled on top of her, the weight of him feeling wonderful against her body. Taking his hand, she slid it nervously down her chest to her breast. His fingers squeezed the plump flesh gently through the material of her t-shirt and she couldn't help the moan that escaped her mouth. He seemed surprised and squeezed a bit harder this time, his fingers grazing across her nipple. She sucked in a breath, her eyes locking with his as he watched her expressions.

"Daryl, _please_." Her body no longer seemed her own, a slow heat burning her from the outside in. She lifted her hips, grazing against his and flushing at the erection she felt.

"Are you sure?" His fingertips rested just under her shirt, his heat burning her even as his body slightly shook. The darkness within his eyes was being overshadowed by doubt and she placed both of her palms on each of his cheeks.

"Yes."

Daryl slid his palms up the side of her ribs, his rough, callused hands working her shirt up inch by inch. With each sliver of skin that he revealed her breathing grew harsher, her skin more flushed. She rose to a sitting position and raised both hands. He lifted her shirt free of her body, letting it fall to the floor as he feasted his eyes on her bra covered chest. Without a word she moved her arms behind her back and worked the clasp free, dropping her bra over the side of the bed as well.

Her breasts were small, barely filling the palm of his hand, but they were beautiful. Her nipples were a rosy pink color, both of them standing tall and erect. Her skin was smooth, marred by nothing but tan lines from being out in the sun. She was perfect.

"Take off your shirt," she whispered.

He froze, the simple words intending no harm, but making him freeze regardless. He couldn't let her see his back...couldn't let her see the hell that he had been through. She knew bits and pieces, but he had kept a lot from her, sparing her the gory details.

"No." His tone was firm and she opened her mouth to reply, but he covered her response with his own, wiping it away with his tongue. He kissed her so long and hard that she was dazed when he finally pulled away.

He stood and unbuttoned his jeans, pulling the zipper down slowly against his restrained erection. She worked her own pants off, lifting her hips and wiggling until she was able to kick them off the end of the bed. Daryl stood before her in his t-shirt and boxers while she lay in just her panties. He licked his lips nervously and hooked his thumbs in the waist of his boxers, pushing them down to the floor. His erection pushed past the hem of his shirt, hard and proud.

She stared at it in fascination, silently wondering how he was going to fit inside of her. That's when she remembered that they didn't have protection. Sitting up in a panic, she swung her legs over the side of the bed.

"I'll be right back," she muttered quickly as she strode from the room.

Ignoring the fact that she was naked save for panties, she marched into her mother's room and whispered a silent prayer that she might find a condom hidden within a drawer somewhere. Her hands shook as she rifled through dresser drawers in search of a small plastic square. The drawer in the nightstand beside the bed proved useful and she swiped one of the packets, hurrying back to her room. She shoved it into Daryl's hand and he stared down at it for a moment as she climbed back onto the bed.

Finally he tore the package open and slowly slid the condom onto his length. Just watching him do it had her pressing her thighs together to try and relieve the ache that throbbed within her. He placed one knee onto the bed and then glanced at her panties. Blushing, she hurriedly slid them down her legs and to the floor.

His eyes drank her in for several moments before he straddled her, trying to think of his next move. Over the years he had heard his brother talk about girls and sex almost as if it were the bible. Then there had been the times that Frank had forced him to sit and watch porn with him. The things that Daryl had seen on the TV screen had disgusted him. There had been a complete lack of feeling and the conversation had seemed too scripted to even pretend to be real. But if he hadn't watched bits and pieces, then he definitely would have been a bumbling idiot. He supposed that the something was better than nothing.

He knew that his job was to make sure that the girl was ready and to bring her pleasure before he took his. He was perfectly fine with that. He loved watching her face when he did something that she liked. He bent his head and pressed several kisses to her hips, his hands smoothing across her abdomen as he went. When he reached the auburn curls between her legs he hesitated only for a second before sliding a finger inside of her. Her hips rose from the bed, her body stretched taut beneath him.

"Daryl!"

He continued to explore her with one finger, delighting in the way her body tightened around him, growing more wet with each stroke. When she cried out once more and her whole body began to shake, he stopped to watch her curiously. She had her eyes closed and her hands were clenched tight around the blankets of her bed. He felt the rush of moisture around his finger and slid it free of her, staring at her juices coating his skin. While she fought for breath, he hesitantly swiped the tip of his tongue over the juices. He was surprised that there wasn't much of a flavor to it and he licked the rest from his finger.

Moving over her he grabbed his own cock, holding it taut as he lined it with her entrance. Her eyes flew open and locked with his own.

"Last chance ta back out," he whispered.

She shook her head no and he began to push into her. Holding her breath, she bent her legs, spreading her knees wider to receive him. He kept a slow pace, sliding in inch by inch until he was fully seated within her. She released her breath slowly. It was uncomfortable, but not as bad as she had envisioned. After a few moments he began to move and she felt the first tinges of pain laced with her discomfort.

She whimpered and his eyes flashed to her face guiltily. He began to withdraw, but she wrapped her legs around him. She wanted this, pain and all...it was worth it to her. She pulled him down to her and kissed him, wanting to feel that other connection with him. He kept up his pace, but soon his face began to contort.

"I can't," he gritted out as the muscles in his shoulders quivered. "Have you...?"

"I don't think I can again. It's okay," she coaxed.

He pistoned into her and buried his face into her neck with a growl. She could feel the sweat from his body rubbing onto her, but she didn't care. Running her hands through his hair, she tried to soothe him the best way that she knew how. She had no way of knowing what would happen now that they had taken this step, but she knew that she would do whatever it took not to lose him.

"Are you okay?" He murmured into her neck as he struggled to push off of her. She latched her arms around his neck.

"I'm fine. Don't move," she urged. "This is nice."

He slid to the side partially, his warm breath blowing against her shoulder. It really was nice to lie there with him, the weight of him comforting to her.

"Did you mean it?"

He lifted his head, "Mean what?"

"Do you promise to come back for me?" She tried not to sound so lost, so full of hope, but she couldn't keep it from creeping into her voice anyway. She knew that if he promised then he would keep his word. Daryl's promises were as good as gold.

He swiped a tendril of hair from the side of her face, his blue eyes shining down at her with emotions she couldn't decipher.

"I promise," he whispered in reply as he swept his lips over hers.

...


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for my dear, sweet, Vicki who's birthday is today. She is my biggest supporter for this and all of my writing actually. I know how much this one means to her and I've been putting off writing the last installment because it just wasn't there and I didn't want to mess it up. I really, really hope this lives up to her expectations for it and that I haven't gone astray from the tone, but I wanted to do something special for her to show how much she means to me...So here it is. Love you woman!

............

_"Do you promise to come back for me?"_

Those very words haunted him as he pounded yet another nail into yet another shingle of the roof he was kneeling upon. Not a day passed that he didn't think of her and the last time that they were together. The memories kept him up at night, burning into his brain over and over until he finally succumbed to sleep. 

Being away from Frank Dixon was like being able to breathe freely again. He no longer had to worry about making a wrong move or having to sneak in and out of his house for fear of getting pounded on or worse. He had his own place now, his own rules. It wasn't much - just some modest bungalow out in the country that needed a lot more work done to it than most wanted to tackle. But it was his and in Daryl's eyes it was a mansion filled with opportunity. 

Just last week he had fixed the plumbing so that he was able to get running water. He still had a long way to go, but every day brought him just a little bit closer to the one thing that would make everything worth it - Carol. It had been an agonizing three months since he had left and tried to make a life for himself, for them  _both_. There were days that he walked inside of his house so tired that he felt the exhaustion deep down in his bones. Plenty of times he had considered giving up and heading back just to be with her. He missed her and the nights they talked that he could hear the sadness in her voice just about did him in. Several times he caught himself, keys in hand, halfway to his truck with intentions to go and pick her up. It took a lot of effort to stop himself, but he did. 

Wiping the sweat from his brow, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the wrinkled picture of her. The edges were frayed from carrying it in his pocket day to day and there were wrinkles the places where he consistently held it in one hand as he gazed upon her beauty. In the picture she was lying back on the grass, her eyes crinkled with mirth as she laughed at something he had said or done, he couldn't remember. He doubted that she even knew that he had taken it. It was the only thing he had with her face on it besides the memories. Rubbing his thumb across her face he smiled softly, his heart skipping a beat. 

"I'm surprised you haven't worn a hole in that picture as many times as I've seen you stare at it."

Daryl glanced up at Bob, one of the members of the crew he worked on and the only one he really ever had any conversations with. He knew more about Daryl than anyone else around, but that still wasn't much. Daryl didn't feel the need to spout off details of his private life with the people that he worked with like some. He especially didn't talk about Carol...she was his, his best kept secret. 

Instead of replying to Bob, Daryl simply gazed down at the picture once more and tenderly slid it back into his pocket, picking up his hammer as he did so. He didn't really feel like talking today and Bob seemed to understand that as he shrugged and went back to working. Daryl swung the hammer again, pounding yet another nail, every beat echoing the thud of his heart. 

............

"I didn't think you were going to call."

"I ever missed a call?" He teased lightly. 

She pretended to think about that and he growled mockingly causing her to burst out in laughter. "There was the one time you fell asleep on me..."

He ducked his head even though he was alone and lying in his bed. He hadn't meant to fall asleep that night on the phone, but all of their late night conversations had begun to catch up with him and exhaustion had won over. She claimed it was okay and that she understood, even offering to call less, but he wouldn't hear of it. It wouldn't happen again, no matter how tired he was. Talking to her was the only thing that kept him going sometimes. 

"You're never gonna let me live that down, are you?" 

"Nope." She giggled and his lips curved upward in response. 

"Everything okay?" 

He waited with bated breath for her answer. Every time they talked he asked the same question and she knew exactly what he meant without him having to explain. He wanted to make sure that the sack of shit her mother was seeing kept his hands to himself and away from Carol. There hadn't been any incidents according to Carol, but where she was concerned he didn't like to take chances. All it would take is one wrong move on Ed's part and Daryl wouldn't mind taking the long drive to set things straight. She sighed and his shoulders immediately tensed as he moved to sit up in the bed. 

"Carol..." he growled.

"Everything's fine."

"Define _fine_ because I'm thirty seconds from throwing on my clothes and hopping in the truck to come there."

"He hasn't touched me, Daryl. I promise. You know I would never keep that from you. He's just been drinking more and saying cruel things to Mama and myself. The bills are piling up and I'm not sure how much longer we'll be able to afford to live here."

Daryl wiped his hand over his face, pressing down firmly on his temples where the blood was already starting to pound. This wasn't good news. If she had to move then that might mean that he wouldn't be able to find her and that just wouldn't do at all. Thank God he made enough to buy her a cell phone and put minutes on it. He would go crazy if he couldn't hear her voice. 

"Maybe...the house is almost ready. I can come get you this weekend and we can figure something out about school..." He searched his brain for a solution.

"After today we've got less than a month left. We can do it, I know we can because we've made it this far."

"Promise me you will call me if something happens."

"I promise...now you were saying something about finding clothes?" 

He smiled. 

................

_**One month** **later...**_

He couldn't remember the last time he had been so nervous. He kept casting glances in her direction, watching the shadows play across her face in the cab of the pickup truck. Her cap and gown sat on the seat beside her, discarded immediately after the ceremony. He had been waiting for her on the other side of the stage, a smile on his face as she bounded down the steps and straight into his arms...right where she belonged.

He never wanted to let her go. He never would again.

But now that she was finally on her way home with him, he was nervous. The last few weeks he had spent doing as much as he could to the place in an effort to make it nice for her. He still had a long way to go, but he was confident that he would get there. Just having her with him made all the difference in the world. 

He ran his finger along the edge of his throat, the collared shirt making his skin itch. He couldn't wait to put on regular clothes, but he had wanted to wear something nice for her. Never one to miss anything, she leaned over in the seat and began to unbutton his shirt. He breathed in her scent as it surrounded him, her fingers dancing whisper soft across his heated flesh. When she had the top few buttons undone, he breathed a heavy sigh of relief, the weight of the coarse fabric less suffocating. 

"Better?"  

He nodded, stealing a glance at her in the darkness. "I can't believe you're here," he said softly. 

Instead of moving back into her seat she stayed right there next to him, curling into his side as if she couldn't bear to leave him.

"Neither can I."

..............

He opened the door to the house, flipping the light switch to chase away the night. Bypassing her as she looked around curiously, he headed into the one bedroom of the house, shucking his shirt. His intentions were to change while she was getting a look at everything so he didn't hear her approach the doorway as he changed out of the stiff clothing. Her sharp intake of breath alerted him to his mistake. 

He hadn't thought much about his scars since moving out on his own. Being alone meant that he didn't have to hide them from anyone and he had grown accustomed to strolling around the house shirtless and barefoot. Having Carol around distracted him in the most delicious ways, but it also made him forget that he hadn't subjected her to the depths of his nightmares...the proof of the tortures that he had endured. 

Her cool fingers brushed over his back, grazing over several places where the skin was raised. He grit his teeth together as he gripped the drawers of his dresser, minutes short of having access to his tank top that would have covered the mess that remained of his back. She wasn't supposed to see it...she wasn't supposed to know. 

"Daryl?" Her voice quivered and he stared down at his boots that were still scuffed and dirty despite his best attempts to clean them. He focused on breathing in deeply, fighting for control. 

The touch of her lips brushing fleetingly across his back had him sucking in a deep gulp of air. Instead of stopping her, he merely stood still, unsure in that moment of what he should do about the situation. She said nothing more as she explored the network of scars, chasing away the shadows that clung to each one with her lips. She chased at the memories and soothed the old wounds until he was openly shuddering with emotion. He clutched at the wood of the dresser, his arms taut with tension. She ducked beneath his outstretched arms, her eyes searching his. Instead of the pity that he expected to find he only found love and a passion that burned equally inside of his own skin. 

"You were never supposed to see that," he rasped.

"It's a part of you...of course I was going to see it. It's hard to look at it and know that you suffered, I mean I knew, but-"

"Don't."

He cupped her chin, effectively cutting off her words as his eyes bored into her own. Stroking her skin softly he finally drew her close and did what he had been wanting to do the moment that he saw her. He kissed her.

He let his lips graze hers slowly at first, brushing against the outer edges as her eyes drifted closed. She parted her lips for him and his tongue swept inside, reacquainting itself with the taste of her. She let out a small noise, a whimper that sent lightning bolts of pleasure straight through his spine. She was finally here...he still couldn't believe it.

"I love you, Daryl."

He swallowed, his throat bobbing as he fought the dryness that had taken residence there. Tracing the shape of her cheekbones with his thumb he studied her face. How did you explain to someone that love simply wasn't strong enough to define what you felt for them? It seemed boring and insignificant, something that people said to one another every day without even really thinking about it. That wasn't him and it wasn't her either. What they had...it went beyond love. 

"Mine," he whispered. "My heart belongs to you. It's more than love...my heart beats for you and only you. You make me want to be a better man."

Her big blue eyes grew moist with unshed tears as she stared at him intently. As they drew in close to one another, reveling in the comfort of being in each other's arms, Carol's lips grazed his ear.

"Soulmates."

.............

 

 


End file.
